


Parallel

by unbidden_truth



Category: Jab We Met (2007)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbidden_truth/pseuds/unbidden_truth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was how it happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stepquietly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepquietly/gifts).



> Translations and extra notes at the end. Please note that this fic contains a scene that depicts dub-con and has mentions of internalized homophobia. Also, I apologize in advance at the occasional use of very filmi dialogue. And apologizes for taking liberties in creating names for Geet's cousins.

 

 

 

I. _Past Memories_

 

It happened like this.

 

The first time he had seen Geet was outside the hostel. Her hands were moving animatedly as she was told her friend circle some story about the rickshaw-waala and about how he misinterpreted what she had said. Which of course, eventually ended with the rickshaw-waala getting beaten up amidst a traffic jam caused by upturn stalls in Santa Cruz.

 

That was something Anshuman would come to realize was a very common thing. The people misinterpreting Geet part. And perhaps maybe rickshaw-waalas getting beaten up because of something Geet had said was also kind of common thing too.

 

It was Gaurav who introduced them. They had been sitting in the canteen and he was still half asleep. The chai had been lukewarm, low on the masala and high on the sugar and he had slowly sipped it trying not to cringe at the sweetness. Kavita, Gaurav's sister had come up to them with Geet in tow and before she could introduce them---

 

“Hi! You must be Gaurav! I'm a good friend of Kavita's! I don't know who you are though,” she said, her bubbly voice waking him up more quickly than the chai. Her hair had been loose that day, spilling past her shoulders and down her yellow shirt. The faint, smother by smog, early morning light cast a warm glow across her face and he found himself unable to breathe.

 

She was beautiful and he was far away from home. Away from the rules of his Abba and the dreams of his Ammi. Far from duties and obligations he knew he would have to eventually pay. But in that moment. _Woh pal mein_...he fell.

 

 

 

 

II. _Shifting Sideways_

 

He wasn't sure why he feels compelled to tell the strange man in front of him about his life story, only that the default of him not speaking makes Anshuman want to fill up the silence.

 

“You know where I'm going? I'm going to Bhatinda. To meet my girlfriend. But Abba and Ammi don't know because they would never approve. They want a proper Muslim daughter in law. But I love Geet and so I ran away.”

 

The man doesn't respond, just sitting there morosely staring at nothing.

 

“Are you okay? Hello, mister? Is anyone there?” he tries to joke, but the man is still staring off.

 

"Apko Angrezi nahin aati aur kya?"

 

The man seemingly ignores him, and Anshuman tries not to feel irritated.

 

“Is he deaf?” Anshuman mutters aloud glancing at the other passengers.  He shrugs to himself as shifts through his belongings.  A bit later, when he finds a picture of Geet in his notebook, he leans over to man, "This is Geet.  My girlfriend."

 

"I know what you're thinking, but we're very serious."  He glances back down at the picture, a smile lighting his face as he runs his fingers over the edges that are slightly bent.

 

“Do you want to hear the story of how I met her?  She ran into me the first day of class last term.  It was quite filmi and you know that moment--- _woh pal mein_ where everything changes?  It was like that, exactly like that.  And now we are going to get married.”

 

He drops his voice lower, looking over at the man furtively, “But neither one of our parents would agree, so _hum bhaag ke shaadi kareenge_.”

 

 

 

 

III. _Present Desires_

 

He had never been in love with her. They had met one day in the pouring monsoon rain on a Thursday underneath the bus stop in Kurla West. She was drenched through, her pale blue shalwar khameez, while conservative, clung to her like second skin. He had been standing a meter away from her, one hand firmly grasped around a half broken umbrella and wrapped in a raincoat. She had been shivering, but painstakingly oblivious to the way men blatantly stared at her.

 

There was something about her that drew his eyes, not to the way the cotton fabric clung or the way her neck arched or even the way raindrops slide down her cheeks and past her lips.  It was the way that she seem to stare at the world in wonder and how she seemed comfortable in her own skin regardless of what anyone thought.

 

He wasn’t sure what made him take off his raincoat and hand it to her.  Her answering bright smile was genuine.

 

And _woh pal mein_ , he wanted to be her.

 

It had been easy to pretend spending days with Geet and her easy company was something he had wanted.  Easy to push away the shame that arose every time his eyes would linger far too long on the other boys, who lived on his floor while they were showering.  Easy when he would take her to the cinema or for walks near Bandstand.

 

He never gave their relationship a name.  She was a good friend and while he felt guilty for not correcting her when she would introduce him to her friends as her “boyfriend,” he wasn’t exactly lying either.

 

When Geet had showed up in Shimla, he had panicked. In the end, after months of avoiding her, he found himself in Bhatinda.  Though he blamed that mostly on Aditya Kashyap.

 

 

 

III. _Present Desires (b)_

 

In Bhatinda, he begins to wonder what exactly he got himself into.

 

Under the heavy heated glance that her cousins give him as they forcefully take him in hand, firm fingers gripping his shoulders, his elbows, and pressed too close---to freshen up, Anshuman tries to quell the shock of desire that flares.

 

He is pulled outside, past the crowd of aunties and uncles and every relative one could name and towards a smaller outhouse where the water pump is and suddenly he feels nervous.

 

Anshuman stares at the men---Geet's two cousins in front of him but really his two captors assigned by Geet's ammi. Both of them are wearing a challenging smirk and briefly he debates on taking a step or two back before deciding it might seem as if he was conceding to something he didn't understand.

 

“So you're a friend of Aditya's,” Bikram states, his eyes lingering too long as he studies Anshuman. He feels uncomfortably naked even though he still has on his clothes. He glances at Jagjit who is busy turning the faucet to the outdoor well.

 

“Yes,” Anshuman manages to say as he watches both of them start to tug off their clothes. He nervously glances away. The fields are heavy with wheat that span as far as he can see and briefly he's taken aback by its beauty.

 

“While, you’re here, maybe we can show you around the farm,” Jagjit says, his voice heavy and suggestive against his ear and Anshuman stumbles back against Bikram. He hadn't heard them move and to his shock finds that both the cousins are stark naked.

 

He can feel the warm press of Bikram all along his back, the press of his fingers against his arms, and the smell of sweat and the bitter smell of beedi—the cloying scent of the tobacco. He almost trips as he pulls away and eyes both of them with trepidation, “What are you doing?”

He tries not to pay attention to the way their chest are firms, the way their arms and legs are built, all gleaming muscle probably from years helping out in the farming or playing cricket out in the fields.

 

But he can't help as his eyes trail along that line of hair against their lower abs and trailing lower---he jerks up when he realizes what he's doing. Sweat breaks out all along his upper lip and his palms feel uncomfortably sweaty as Bikram tugs him closer. He's taller than Anshuman by more than an inch and there's deceptive strength is his large hands. Anshuman's mind skitters away from thinking about what that means.

 

“What are you doing?” his voice comes out harsh and he half expects Bikram to push him away, but instead he finds his jacket being pulled off of him.

 

“Massi said we needed to make sure you freshen up.”

 

“I—I can do it on my own,” he says, his voice breaks and he internally curses. He grimaces hoping that they get the message, but instead, Bikram's finger trails up his shirt before he begins to start unbuttoning it.

 

“Here, we never allow the guests to do the work.”

 

Suddenly Jagjit's arms are wrapped around him from the behind, his fingers adeptly undoing his belt and quickly tugging down his pants.

 

And then there's only the thin fabric of his tight briefs and Jagjit's---his heartbeat thunders loudly against his ears as he feels Jagjit push his underwear almost painstaking slowly down his legs while Bikram finally pushes his shirt off of him.

 

Swallowing audibly, he manages to croak out again, “I can wash myself.”

 

“You're a guest,” Jagjit insists, his warm body is still pressed all along his back and between the two of them something heavy settles low in his gut.

 

His skin feels too tight and it's too hard to breath. Anshuman almost flinches when the cold, wet washcloth is against his skin.

 

Each touch lingers and soon he forgets whose hand is rubbing along his chest and down his back.

 

He feels ashamed at the way his body reacts and equally turned on as the cloth is dragged around his neck and when it slides against his thigh. The shame flares hotter when he feels disappointed that they never cross the thin line of no return.

 

There is a surge of jealousy when the cousins begin to clean each other. Their touches are intimate with easy, knowing looks exchanged between them. The washcloth glides sensuously between them as if it was something that has always been and always will be.

 

His mouth falls open when their hands slip down between their legs as they pull each other off, the sound of flapping skin and heavy breaths abnormally loud despite the chatter inside the haveli.

 

His cheeks heat as he flushes unable to drag his eyes away. He can feel himself harden as desire pulls low in his belly. The rhythm steadily increases before faltering as they both spend themselves.  They languidly help each other clean up as he watches.

 

When they turn to towards him, they eye his cock before glancing up at him amused.

 

“Are you sure you don't need help getting dressed?” The smile Jagjit gives him is all too knowing.

 

But before Anshuman can reply, he can hear the footsteps of someone coming and abruptly he's reminded of where he is and what he came here for.

 

Turning hastily away, he tugs on his clothing and pretends not to see the amused look on the cousins’ faces.

 

It's awkward later, not for them but for him as he watches Geet and avoids looking at the cousins from the corner of his eyes.  But he can feel the phantom of their glances all through the night.

 

Later the next day when he sees Geet kiss Aditya out in the field, he doesn't know what to do. Coming with Geet to Bhatinda was about accepting things he could never have. And now as he watches Aditya cradle Geet's face, he feels elated and jealous all at once.

 

Only later when the sun is setting and everyone is back in the haveli preparing for the wedding and he's still out on the field, when Bikram slides in next to him, and Jagjit presses up from behind, he realizes that he didn't need to be jealous. As Bikram presses all along his side and he can feel Jagjit's warm breath against his neck he wonders maybe he found what he was looking for after all.

 

Even if it means ducking his head every time Dhaji gives them an all too knowing look.

 

 

 

 

::::

 

 

He stood up as Geet came crashing through that gate because he’s been waiting for her.  He chased her down all the way to Bhatinda after almost losing his belongings due to an idiot crorepati.  He reached across the distance and kissed Bikram first and then Jagjit as he finds himself.  He’ll watch as Geet runs up to Aditya---and---

 

 

 

Fin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Coda: IV. Future Endings_

 

When he will walk into his parents' bungalow, he will hear the low strummings of “Gata Rahe Mera Dil” on the old record player (his Abba’s favorite heroine was Waheeda Rehman).  It will be later in the afternoon, but he will be early enough that his Ammi will have chai waiting.  His Abba will be reading The India Times, his bifocals perched low on his nose as he will try to read, eyes squinting about the latest government bribe scandal.  Every few minutes he will read out another quote, his voice soft and steady and his Ammi will shake her head as she does the daily crossword.  There will be sounds of the newspaper crinkling, the scratches of a graphite pencil, and the occassional sips of chai.  Despite the early fall, the house will be warm.

 

They both will turn towards the door when he walks in, both expectantly awaiting good news.  They’ll see the tension on his face, the way his lips are twisted down in a frown and in that moment---

 

He isn’t sure what he will say.  That through some strange mishap, he hadn’t returned with Geet.  That the nice looking boy in the tailored clothes is now married to Geet.  That even though it wasn’t his fault that Geet had chased him all the way to Shimla, somehow it seems that will be how the story will be told.

**Author's Note:**

> Stepquietly, there is so much I would like to say about writing this. Instead, I'll keep it short--this fic was surprisingly difficult in some ways to write and in some ways surprisingly liberating. I'm not quite sure I achieved what I wanted in the end. And it's very different from what you asked (and I tried painstakingly hard to write the Anshuman/Geet's cousins crack!fic and instead it kind of turned into this). There were points where I agonized over my description and/or use of language--but I had an absolutely great time writing this and I hope you enjoy reading this.
> 
> Translations:  
>  _saheli_ -friend (female friend of a female technically I believe)  
>  _woh pal mein_ \- in that moment  
>  _apko Angrezi nahin aati aur kya_ -You don't know English or what?  
>  _hum bhaag ke shaadi kareenge_ \- We'll run and marry (literal)/We're eloping  
>  _Maasi_ -mother's sister  
>  _crorepati_ -millionaire/"ten millionaire" (literal)  
>  _Gata Rahe Mera Dil_ \- My heart will keep singing/My heart is singing--a song from the Hindi movie _Guide_ (1965)


End file.
